ent was at an end.

Stunned with what he had passed through, Arthur stood motionless,
while Thornton drew Lucy's cloak about her shoulders, fastened her fur
himself, tied on her satin hood, taking such care of her as a mother
would take of a suffering child.

"It is hardly safe to send her home alone," he thought, as he looked
into her face and saw how weak she was. "As a friend of both, I ought
to accompany her."

She was, indeed, very weak, so weak that she could scarcely stand,
and Thornton took her in his arms and carried her to the sleigh; then
springing in beside her he made her lean her tired head upon his
shoulder as they drove to Prospect Hill. She did not seem frivolous to
him now, but rather the noblest type of womanhood he had ever met. Few
could do what she had done, and there was much of warmth and fervor in
the clasp of his hand as he bade her good-by and went back to the
rectory, thinking how deceived he had been in Lucy Harcourt.

* * * * *

Great was the consternation and surprise in Hanover when it was known
that there was to be but one bride at Prospect Hill on the night of
the fifteenth, and various were the surmises as to the cause of the
sudden change; but, strive as they might, the good people of the
village could not get at the truth, for Valencia held her peace, while
the Hethertons were far too proud to admit of being questioned, and
Thornton Hastings stood a bulwark of defence between the people and
their clergyman, adroitly managing to have the pulpit at St. Mark's
supplied for a few weeks while he took Arthur away, saying that his
health required the change.

* * * * *

"You have done nobly, darling," Fanny Hetherton had said to Lucy when
she received her from Thornton's hands and heard that all was over;
then, leading her half-fainting cousin to her own cheerful room, she
made her lie down while she told of the plan she had formed when first
she heard what Lucy's intentions were.

"I wrote to the doctor, asking if he would take a trip to Europe, so
that you could go with us, for I know you would not wish to stay here.
To-day I have his answer, saying he will go, and what is better yet,
father and mother are going, too."

"Oh, I am so glad, so glad. I could not stay here now," Lucy replied,
sobbing herself to sleep, while Fanny sat by and watched, wondering at
the strength which had upheld her weak little cousin in the